


Don't stop believing

by n_nami



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Song fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_nami/pseuds/n_nami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The meet as strangers in a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't stop believing

**Author's Note:**

> You should really listen to Journey's "Don't stop believing" while reading this, because it was the song I wrote this story for.

They met as strangers.

In a small, seedy bar in Lawrence, Kansas, Dean made a habit of drinking his one beer before driving home from work. He was just a lonely guy, living in his parents' house after they had both passed away and his brother Sam went to Stanford. He had no one to come home to. And as he drove home from work that evening, he noticed the bar at the side of the road for the first time, and decided to take a look.

When Dean saw him for the first time, he sat at the other end of the bar, nursing at a bottle of beer. Dark mop of hair, tousled like he had run his hands through it repeatedly, full lips that closed around the rim of the bottle almost like a caress. Dean had to take a large mouthful of his own beer, eyes drawn to the stranger. When the man glanced over at him, Dean's eyes met deep blue ones, and the stranger smiled melancholically at him.

The day after that, Dean sat a little closer to the middle of the bar, and made eye contact to the stranger immediately.

The day after that, they sat next to each other, drinking their respective beer and sharing a smile or two. They didn't talk, didn't even exchange names, but the dark-haired man was obviously here for the same reason Dean was, because he left after his beer, grabbing for the keys in his pocket. His eyes lingered on Dean's when he threw a bill onto the counter and turned around to go.

The atmosphere became even stranger the day after. There was a push and pull here, and Dean's skin was tingling where he touched the other man's. The feeling seemed to be mutual, because the touches became frequent, the stranger's hand brushing along his arm when no one watched, their eyes meeting right after that. Blue eyes were averted a bit shyly – Dean didn't know if it was just to play coy, but hell, the way his stomach curled at the smile on those plush, full lips told him this would only go one way.

It ended up on the back alley, the two of them leaving together, hiding behind the house to jerk each other off. It was hot and fast, the kisses they exchanged were desperate and tasting of the cheap beer. Dean left quickly after that, admittedly a bit scared. He hadn't felt that attracted to someone like that ever, but it seemed like those blue eyes made him weak in the knees every time he saw them.

Blue-eyes was there the day after that, waiting for Dean with a secret smile. They sat closer than usual that evening, but were still not talking. It was about kicking back after work, and apparently they both were the type to do that without any words. Words weren't really necessary, here, and after the bottles were drained, they made their way to the back alley, again.

The weekend came and went, and Dean missed his encounters with the quiet stranger with the electric blue eyes, but he didn't think he would be at the bar anyway, so it was no use showing up there.

On Monday, the smell of wine and cheep perfume lingered in the air of the small bar, but Dean spotted his dark-haired stranger immediately.

He had a glass of scotch in his hand today.

Dean ordered whiskey, too, and they silently clinked their glasses.

Afterwards, they noticed that some kind of biker gang decided to have a meeting behind the bar. Dean was about to step away easily and leave the stranger with a nod and a “Tomorrow, then,” but before he could say anything, a hand grabbed his wrist firmly.

“My place,” the blue-eyed man said, pulling Dean down the street.

And wow, his voice – deep, gravelly, a sound that went straight to Dean's cock. He followed without a second thought and pointedly didn't look at the name tag on the door.

The night was spent in the strange man's bed – and Dean didn't even see the rest of his flat – with some hard, desperate sex that left Dean sated and with just a rueful aftertaste, because he knew this was only this and wouldn't become more.

Or so he thought.

The next day at work, Dean's body reminded him constantly of what he had done the previous evening with little aches in all the right places. He felt good, though. A feeling that only increased when his boss showed up to the meeting with a familiar face in tow and walked right up to Dean.

“Meet Castiel Novak, our new head of accounts department,” he said, then looking at the blue-eyed man and said, “and this is Dean Winchester, the sales director.”

“Hello, Dean,” that gravelly voice greeted him, reminding Dean instantly of the sweet moans and groans he had elicited from that same mouth the night before.

“Hey, Castiel,” he answered with a smile and shook the offered hand firmly. “Mind if I call you Cas?”

Cas reciprocated the smile and winked.

They had met as strangers, and became lovers. If someone had told Dean so, he wouldn't have believed that something like that could happen to someone like him.


End file.
